


steel magnolias

by chemicalburnfromthespiralperm



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Non AU, Pure fluff honestly, Wedding Fluff, Weddings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-15 06:21:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11800224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chemicalburnfromthespiralperm/pseuds/chemicalburnfromthespiralperm
Summary: apparently, katya doesn't know what they're supposed to be doing today.  or, the one where the brians almost don't get married.





	steel magnolias

**Author's Note:**

> male pronouns stay consistent, and the only times they are referred to as "brian" are when they are speaking out loud to each other. also, hence the title, this was inspired by the movie of the same name.

**i.**

" _Hey_ , _mama."_

Ohhhh, his blood is fuckin' boiling.  Katya's voice sounds so bouncy and light, like a summer breeze that's just the right amount of cool because you're standing in the shade, almost like it's trying to shield you from the heat, a soft apology because it's doing its best but still feels like heaven.  As beautiful and delightful as it is to hear Katya's voice from the other end of this phone despite the cacophony of noise and flurry of destruction swarming around him, he's angry.  Furious even.  He wants to just hang up.

"'Hey?'  Really? 'Hey, mama?'  What the fuck?"

"Brian, for the love of God, can you watch your mouth?"

"Sorry, Momma."

_"Well, good morning to you, too!  What are you doing?"_

Trixie has to take a moment.  He he holds the phone at arm's length with one hand and uses his other to scrub at his face, possibly trying to scrub any memory of Katya away at the same time, because what the fucking fuck?  And, also, trying not to smack his own mama.

He regains some semblance of composure several deep breaths later.

"What the fuck do you want?  What are you doing?  Why are you calling me?  Aren't you supposed to be-"

_"So, I was thinking.  I miss you."_

"Okay?"

He's laughing on the other end.  Trixie can just imagine the look on his face.

_"You don't miss me?"_

"You're beautiful, you're gorgeous, you're Linda Evangelista, now what do you WANT, Brian McCook?"

_"Well, Brian Firkus...  What are you doing later?"_

"Katya, I swear to god if you're fucking with me, I will never forgive you."

_"Mama - I would never.  What are you doing later, because...  I was thinkin', that I miss you.  And if you're free, say, around 3:45...  It would certainly be my pleasure if you'd accompany me somewhere.  Pretty little southern bell like you on my arm?  I do declare, mother, that I think I've fallen in love."_

It's hard, so FUCKING hard to hate him.  Trixie's blushing.  Fucking blushing, and there's a god damn photographer in his face taking pictures of it.  Why did he pay for this?  All his fuckin' fancy TV money and a fresh $100,000 check and this is what he blows his money on.

"I hate you.  I have to go."

_"Oh, my god, Tracy, just say yes."_

"There's too much to do and not enough time to do it and I have to go!  You get the easy job!  Make sure Violet and Adore aren't already piss drunk!"

_"Honey, that ship sailed.  Tell me you love me, Tracy Martel!"_

"I love you, now fuck off!  I'm still mad at you, so leave me alone!"

He hangs up the phone and sets it onto the vanity in front of him with a little more force than he meant to.  He's sweating, beads settling at his hairline and threatening to fall.  His insides feel like they're mutating and growing second, third, forth, and fifth skins.  It feels like his organs are all melting together and they're gonna eat him alive, which would be a more welcomed death than shitting himself in front of everyone he knows.

"Brian."

The stern tone of his mama's voice makes his head snap up in her direction.  God, she's so beautiful.  He'd wanted a Barbie doll his whole life, but looking at her right now, in the soft lighting surrounded by all this white, he realizes he'd had one the whole time.  She's gorgeous, his beautiful mama, putting up with him and dealing with this god damn hellion of a child.

"Yes, mama?"

"I didn't spend any money on this, and I'm pleased," she says in that soft, midwestern twang, "but God willing, I got people from the club comin' to this thing and if you call it off, so help me I'm gonna smack you, comfort you, and smack you some more.  That boy, crazy as he is, loves you, and I love him to death for it.  What is wrong, baby?"

"I didn't expect forever to happen so soon."

It's the last thing he gets to say to his mama before she's hauled away by people needing help.  She leaves him with a kiss on the cheek and a knowing look.  He's alone in this room, sat at the vanity, and for the first time there's no makeup in front of him or on him, but he's nervous.  He looks into the mirror and sees himself staring back at him and for a moment he has no idea who he is or what he's doing.  Minutes or maybe hours pass when he closes his eyes, who knows, but there's a warm hand on his shoulder and someone places a kiss on his head.

"Beautiful."

His eyes snap open and his heart sinks.

"Brian!"

Katya has that self-assured and smug smirk on his lips.  He looks fucking breathtaking.  "I'm gonna talk some sense into you if it's the last thing I do."

"Brian, please!  Get back over to the hotel!  You know it's bad luck to see me before the wedding!  How the hell did you even get in here?"

"So you are gonna marry me...  and I climbed through the window, obviously."

He rolls his eyes.  "Brian."

"I don't wanna have to give back all the wedding presents!  That slow cooker alone is worth getting married for.  And I love you."

Trixie's eyes start to water a bit.  If there's anyone that can crack him in a second, it's fucking Katya.  

"You know, if my daddy catches you in here the question of whether or not you can have children will not matter.  He'll make sure you can't, and then our surrogate gaybies will look like ugly little cabbage patch dolls and I don't want that, and we are not famous enough to adopt seven Somalian children like Brangelia."

He gets up to create distance between them and picks up his bowtie to start messing with it.  It's far too early to get dressed but it gives his hands something to do, gives his eyes something to look at other than the oceans in Katya's.

"Trixie, just say you're gonna marry me.  I have anxiety and you know I can't live with the suspense.  Just say it."

Katya is nothing if not persistent, and he follows Trixie step for step, takes the bowtie out of his hands and just looks him in eyes for a long moment, so long it could almost make a person uncomfortable, and it's in that moment that he realizes...  he's not uncomfortable.  He's not scared.  This is...  everything.

He swallows, hard, and Katya reaches out to grab his hands.  He lifts Trixie's left hand to his mouth, never breaking eye contact, and presses a kiss to his engagement ring.

"Okay.   _Okay_!  Fine.  Meet me at 4, at the church.  I'll be the ugly one crying my eyes out at the altar."

"Impossible.  You're beautiful."

Katya leans up to catch Trixie's mouth in a chaste kiss.  It's everything.  This is everything.

"Brian Michael Firkus...  I'm gonna make you so happy."


End file.
